


[NSFW] Soundwaves

by dashgstr



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 10:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashgstr/pseuds/dashgstr
Summary: [Get it? Cause they're on the beach, and he plays music.][+18 only, please.][Formalesque slashfic quickie about a songbird and a hero, told from the second person (Link).][Cross-Post from https://dotgstrnsfw.tumblr.com/.]





	[NSFW] Soundwaves

A sigh of relief escapes your lungs as the chirping of birds turns to the breaking of waves, and the dampness of the grass turns to the softness of the sand. Not a beat is skipped as your traveling boots are wrested off, and the sleeves of your trousers are rolled up. It’s been far, far too long since your last visit to the coastline, as its call has been tormenting you for months on end. Nostalgia takes on a saline taste for you, and those countless hours begin to relive themselves in your mind. And through all your adventures, all the places that have struck you silent with awe, nothing has been able to beat the beach.

As if thankful of your return, the shore has rewarded you with nothing less than candy for the eyes. Crimsons, lavenders, and all the pastels between fill the sky in a psychedelic gradient, with only sparse, ashy grey clouds between it and the sun. The water, normally diamond blue and crystalline clear, reflects the heavens on the crests of its waves, creating a shimmering effect practically unseen and unexperienced by Hylians. It’s as if the ocean was attempting to project to you an image of your fate, bright and colorful as can be. It’s as if it were a fortune teller, who, though is struggling to make ends meet, is extremely skilled, and more than capable of flattering you into a few extra rupees. You’re impressed.

You breathe in another gulp of briny air, managing to break away from the sky’s gift with the thought of who you’re supposed to be meeting. A fragment of a memory hits your frontal lobe, a memory of the promise you made to him earlier. It’s the reason you’re here in the first place. Or, was it simply an excuse to go back to your holy grounds? Your rucksack swings off your shoulder, kicking some sand up as it lands with a “poompf”. Following suit, you sit yourself down in the shore, attempting to recollect the events leading up to your arrival.

It takes but a moment for you to remember everything. Things began with a sound, and an attractive sound at that. A sound that, as the first note reached your ear, had you hooked nearly beyond control. It brought back memories of the surf, of the sand, and of home, like a cocktail of warmth, spiked with equal parts honesty and skill. You began tracking the sound to its source, and as the tune began to grow in volume, the feeling only tightened its grasp.

Up until that point, you had never been one for much music. Then again, all the bards you had met were unable to evoke strength, emotion, and plot with as much skill as he. Their sounds, none of them carried the weight that his did. They lacked the spirit that you easily obtain from reading, or riding. But him? His fingers, deft from countless days of experience, wove words into melodies, and spoke passages into ballads. You felt like you had journeyed for days, seeking fortune and fame in a distant land by the time you had reached his location.

And fortune you did find. He shone like a lighthouse in a storm, cutting through the darkness of these times, and ensuring that you found your way safely. His proud Rito posture, his unusually athletic build, and his vibrant, ultramarine plumage was nothing short of a spectacle. You must’ve gazed for minutes straight, as he had yet to notice your presence before finishing his song. His face, strengthened with companionship as opposed to hardship. His voice, as deep, wide, and stoic as the canyons of Tabantha. His clothing, modest but indicative of many roads traveled. He was perfect.

You didn’t hesitate to introduce yourself, taking the opportunity as if it were granted by Hylia herself. It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn personal, as the chemistry between your shoulder slapping attitude and his reserved, lionhearted demeanor blended as harmoniously as his music. He composed you a song on the spot, and you taught him the deliciousness of a plant most thought to be inedible. This trading of skillsets, this companionship between travelers, that is what finally drove you to ask him to meet you.

Initially, the Rito found himself taken aback by such a proposal. Though he minced his words in an attempt to deflect the question, you only had to apply the slightest amount of pressure to crack his modesty. It’s a moment that brings a smile to your face, as seeing such a mountain of a spirit break to desire is almost always interesting. In his case, he only became more endearing as he became embarrassed.

And so, here you sit, waiting patiently for him on the dawn-lighted shoreline. The sound of a massive wingspan is heard over the crashing of the waves, and just as you had expected, he is impeccable with his timing. A small whirlwind of sand is kicked up near you as he touches down, but it doesn’t prevent you from catching his gaze. He’s been mentally preparing, you can tell by the way he’s holding his expression, his posture. Having affairs with Hylians must not be a common occurrence for him.

You stand up, greeting him with open arms. As he accepts your embrace, you feel him instantly begin to decompress, his worry dissipating with feel of your touch. You tell him you’re glad he showed up, giving his back a hearty, but equally friendly pat.  
“It’s good to see you too,” he replies through a sigh, very clearly still a little high strung.  
Squeezing his midriff, you mention the view, and how it must be a sign of something, if not a blessing. He chuckles, and you hope that through a touch of humor, he’ll eventually ease up completely.

Smiling, you ask him about how pleasant his trip was, in a tone that reeks with not only awareness of the inanity of the question, but the context in which it’s being asked.  
“Oh, it was quite nice,” he replies, catching on to your joke without trouble.  
“Yours?”  
You tell him it was a journey full of peril, excitement, and lechery, but that if you were to tell it, he might faint from shock. His laughter scares a few of the sea birds into the air, and in a way, startles you as well. He doesn’t seem the type to belly laugh, much less open his mouth past an amused smile.

Pressing forward, you run a hand down his back, touching the waist of his trousers. You lean in for the kill, and tell him that it doesn’t have to end here. Again, he catches on, but his reaction is far less timid. Matching your hand with his own, he looks down at you with a sultry expression. You press up against him, and to your slight surprise, you feel him already beginning to grow into your chest. Of course he’s eager, you tell yourself, it was just a matter allowing him to settle in.

He doesn’t stop you from pulling his lower garb straight to his feet, and even goes so far as to step out of the leg holes to prevent sand clutter later. His member extends itself to full length in front of you, causing a break in the embrace due to the obstacles of anatomy. It attracts your attention long enough to envision what to use it for, before you meet his eyes bearing a smile. Your intentions, though perhaps not what he may be expecting, are sure to please you both in ways currently incomprehensible. Disrobing has never been quite this easy for you.

As you step out of your own pants, you trod through the lightly shifting sands to his side. Along the way, you seize light control over him, and begin a rhythmic stroking. He leans down, pressing his beak against your lips as an amorous gesture. The feeling, though unlike any other humanoid you’ve ever laid with, is one you feel cannot be simply thrown aside. Your other hand pulls his cheek in closer, so you may savor the feeling of his emotionally charged kiss. 

In response, he cocks his head slightly to the side, and reveals to you a previously unknown dimension of intensity that can stem from foreplay. Opening his mouth only partially, his tongue pokes out of his mouth and into yours, unequivocally beating out every other lover you’ve been with. The way he fuses passion with nobility, and the way his body combines athleticism with sheer unfamiliarity would cause most potential mates to go shaky in the knees. You would have never expected a Rito to be such a perfect object of desire.

He breaks away from your lips, placing a hand on your shoulder as he kneels down. He must have realized that, though the position you were in would’ve been a lovely moment to halt the flow of time, you weren’t getting any pleasure past an emotional connection. Wrapping his hands around your waist, he pulls himself close to your abdomen, less focused on your member, and more focused on your expression.

Though it may still be heat of the moment, and though your cheeks are still flushed with passion, you cannot help but feel a little disadvantaged, after having had witnessed his endowment. That feeling quickly fades, as he brings you into his beak with the vigilance of a knight with his king. It would be inappropriate to call his action a “deep throat,” as his beak touches the base of your penis, and you’re quite certain you haven’t gone past even his tongue. But, you don’t much care for what is past it regardless, as the skill with which he uses it is nothing short of breathtaking.

He moves himself slowly forward and back, allowing his tongue to wrap itself in any way it sees fit. It squeezes, it caresses, it strokes, and it fondles, doing what fingers are capable of only under extremely rare conditions. The damp wetness of his mouth simply adds to the deftness of the tongue, lubricating it and you while maintaining the heat one expects from an impassioned Rito. You lightly grasp the sides head and release a sighing shudder, holding on by a thread to not become overwhelmed too quickly.

You can feel yourself building up far too quickly. He is capable of things that require training to properly deal with, and you did not come prepared. You tap his cheek, and he stops in his motions, raising an eyebrow in question. You inform him of your situation, and he pulls himself from your pelvis in response.  
“Oh, pardon me. I was unaware.”  
You kneel down to his level, kissing him once more on the beak as a sign of forgiveness. But, you did not come down here to begin with his mouth once more. You have more ambitious desires.

Without hesitation, he turns himself about upon being enlightened to your intentions, hands and knees pressing into the shore. This is the prize you’ve been waiting for. His back end is toned, soft and billowy with lazuli down. A single, light grip yields instantaneous data about the quality, which is, of course, a quality level unheard of in Hylians. You could spend hours upon hours simply massaging his rump, watching it shift and tense with anticipation. But, you still have yet to investigate your bounty. Two fingers enter him, and are seized with the strength and restraint of a mother with her unaware son. He is flawless.

A soft gasp escapes him as you remove your fingers from inside. Something doesn’t feel correct, though. You look up past his lower half, focusing in on his expression. Staring for a few moments, you decide that you’d rather return the favor of compassion, and tap him on the back. As you tell him that you’d prefer to see his beautiful face, you detect a hint of surprise through his mellow, agreeable smile. And so, he turns himself about on the dune, back now to the sand.

You walk forward on your knees, and he spreads his legs apart for you. Anatomy stands to startle you once again, as his endowment is past your waist, even when it’s laying up against his chest. If your assumptions are correct, it could be possible to do something quite interesting with it later down the line. But, at the moment, you are to do what you came here to do. Bracing yourself against his taloned limbs, you insert yourself into him.

A connection is instantaneously made, and you share a light, pleasured groan at near the same moment. You reach the base of your member, and stop for a moment to ensure, despite witnessing the almost comical moment prior, that he can feel it. You look up to find his expression to the heavens, eyes closed from the blitz of lustful emotion he had just received. You continue to gaze at him as you begin pumping, faintly longing for his skillful tongue as you go.

But, it takes little time for you to feel the effects of your penetration. He tenses up beneath your member, tightening, but not crushingly so. The leftover saliva from his tongue lubricates you both, and the texture it adds to his walls is nothing short of subtle. You had half expected lady anatomy to ruin this moment for the both of you, what with his interior strength being close to debilitating. Instead, you find yourself awash with nothing but erotic tenderness as you push against his glutes. You’re glad to have had the foresight to have kept a grip on his legs, as they rest against your shoulders, shuddering with residual satisfaction from his top half. They give you the leverage you need to increase speed, and thus enact your final plan of the encounter.

In a bout of naughtiness, you grab hold of his member with your right hand, pulling it straight up from its position on his chest. He stops moving himself with the rhythm of your penetration, snapping his attention to your actions. You find that he’s the perfect length, thanking Hylia for this opportunity, to taste him while you’re inside him. And that is precisely what you do.

You hungrily slip his penis into your mouth, feeling the pulsating effects of your hips on his shaft. You begin to return the favor of his tongue, stroking it with your tastebuds in an attempt to pleasure him past his comfort zone. He audibly groans once more, and you don’t need to look up to know he’s rolled his gaze back up to the dawn. You increase the speed of your thrusting, slapping against his cheeks with the fervor of an impassioned animal, while simultaneously moving your way down his shaft with an implement usually unable to reach during such an act.

As if informed by the goddess herself, you remove your mouth the moment he erupts, coating his feathers, and the top half of his traveling attire in his seed. You grab him by the member, bringing it up to your lips for one last encore before he depletes entirely. He tastes like the filling of pastries; creamy, sweet, and decadent. You’ve never had a truly delightful swallow until now. And though the feeling of his insides tightening further around you sends a hot shiver up your spine, you pull yourself out prematurely to light the fireworks in a more appropriate position.

It takes only a single stroke of your own endowment to send another coating of semen onto his abdomen. You feel bad in a way, as he will be tasked with cleaning himself up in the future, but the combined heat of the both of you is too overwhelming at the moment. You fall forward, gently tucking your head into his breast as you both vy to catch your breath. He tucks a wing onto your back, satisfied, but also proud of you, in a way. Perhaps of your ingenuity. Or, would it be your tendency toward nontraditional methods in the bedroom? Either way, he is comforting enough to drain any desire to move from that position, or for that matter, question his motives.

You find yourself sweating profusely, as the seaside sun has begin to break through the heavenly dawn above. Secretly, you hope you don’t smell too terribly to him. That would be the worst way to dissipate afterglow, with the scent of unwashed Hylian in his system. But, as you think with your cheek in his linens, an idea strikes you. The ocean would be a fine bath, so long as he’d be willing to use it. You propose the idea, framing it as “skinny dipping in the bay,” in an attempt to prod his sense of humor once more. He laughs, and proceeds to maneuver off the rest of his garb, revealing the rest of himself to you. You have a hunch that the day is only going to get better from here.


End file.
